


What The Cupid

by Bagchuu



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: BTS and two TXT members, Demigods, Eventually we meet someone we love, Gods and Goddesses, Greek Mythology and Gods, Life sucks at times but its alright, M/M, Resturants and Burgers, Waiters and Waitresses, Wars, a lot of sadness, more tags will be added, was NOT my idea-was part of a twitter groupchat a long time ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:55:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26148286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bagchuu/pseuds/Bagchuu
Summary: Love. What a joke. What a fucking joke.Love was nothing but a mere illusion, desires melted into mere actions that defined this...love.Rather, love was a game.It was meant to break the hearts of the weak, and embellish the strong.For our God of Love, was none other than the infamous  Choi Yeonjun.Oh, but Cupid—this Cupid, was none like the other; one who was fond of heartbreak, the look of betrayal.For Choi Yeonjun successfully lands on the bulls eye with every heart he aims towards.Every heart except for Choi Soobin’s.TW: Slight mention of war, and description of aftereffects of war. Please read carefully!(This idea was not mine, it was from a twitter writing group chat that I had joined a long time ago that I fell out of contact with—this was something sitting in my drafts for a long time.)
Relationships: Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun
Kudos: 20





	What The Cupid

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello! Thank you for clicking on this!  
> I had written this because I was in the mood for some Yeonbin! Also, this one is going to be quite short!  
> Another clarification: This prompt idea was NOT mine! It was an idea from a twitter groupchat whom I fell out of contact with!  
> That said, Happy Reading!

Cupid is known as the God with a bow and arrow, beholding the ability to make people fall in love in an instant. The moment the arrow strikes, one falls in love with the first to be in sight.

People only know Cupid as Cupid, not Eros. As Cupid, Eros is buried under the depths of work.

Eros (or Cupid, as one may prefer), is the God of _erotic_ love, affection… _lust_ , set upon land to fulfill his duty. 

But Choi Yeonjun, _our_ Cupid, is one like no other; determined to _break_ hearts, and _feed_ off of the feeling of devastation. To feast hungrily upon the sight of tears, the sounds of sobbing, the look of heartbreak.

So he continued to pave a path for himself, one that led him astray.

Our story starts with the gods gathering, as they always did, in an old, abandoned warehouse, at the break of dawn, the trees still swaying to the breeze of the remainders of the night.

Above all, sat Kim Taehyung, leader to them all, known as Zeus. He had platinum white hair, falling into his eyes, the largest crown of all sitting atop his head, back straightened. Although he did not possess the most height out of the Gods, his presence was enough to silence one when he pleased to do so. 

Beside him, sat Kim Namjoon, known as Posiedon, the same strong presence lingering in the air around him. He had sandy brown hair, bringing out the beauty in his eyes, his aqua medieval cape fitting on his strong shoulders. 

In between a Zeus and a Posiedon there _always_ was a Hades, one who was looked down upon the most, disgraced. Our Hades was none other than Jeon Jungkook. A dark presence surrounded him, his apparel matching the heavy look he cast upon himself. 

After these three, the rest of the Gods scattered apart, insignificant, too many of them, with too many jobs. They lied across in an odd flock, nowhere to go.

Except seven of them. They called themselves the Gods of Eden.

Taehyung and Namjoon lead the Gods of Eden. They were the first seen in the group. After them, came the rest.

Jung Hoseok known as Aries; Min Yoongi, known as Apollo; Park Jimin, known as Dionysus; and Kim Seokjin, known as Hermes, the messenger God, sending messages throughout the shattered remains of what once used to be Olympus.

Last, but not least was Choi Yeonjun, his arrows proved to be the most dangerous, for his arrows did not kill, but rather, destroyed lives, making one’s life unfulfilling.

They called him rebel, or to tease him, some called him translator. (It was an inside joke between the boys. One day, Seokjin switched around the syllables of the word rebel in Korean, to find that it meant translator.)

And thus forth, our Cupid became known as translator to the Gods of Eden.

* * *

The Gods gathered around Taehyung, who stood up from his throne with his golden staff, peering below at the Gods with keen, slanted eyes. “We are gathered here, in complaint of the fields,” Taehyung blew a strand of hair out of his eyes, lazily speaking. His head snapped to the right, eyes fixated on a certain God-

(Goddess, one may say.)

“Demeter, do you have anything to say for yourself, or….” His voice trailed off, tiny sparks of golden lightning flying in between his fingertips, “Words of redeeming?” His tone a reminder that he had heard too much.

Taehyung was tired of this bullshit.

He just wanted to rest on his throne, and have Dionysus sneak him some grape wine (which he would definitely hide from Hera, who visited him all the time, even after he protested that they weren’t a thing), so that he could sit down and ingurgitate it; play around with the weather.

Demeter fiddled with her fingers. “Your Majesty…” She trailed off, afraid of telling the King of the cause to all this mayhem. 

“ _Speak,_ Seulgi,” He demanded, eyes narrowing.

Seulgi cleared her throat. “It’s due to the weather changes…” She trailed off, her voice giving away small chunks of fear, looking away from his sharp gaze.

“Ah, I see,” He shrugged. “Hera _has_ been more pestering,” Taehyung sighed, falling back into his chair dramatically.

Hera shot glares at him in disgust, as she disappeared with a blinding white light that opened, encasing her whole, until nothing but a small spark was left, as it flurried away into the air.

“Well, Seulgi, just…do your part, otherwise….” Taehyung trailed off, the silence seemingly proven to be more of a threat than his words were.

Her lips tugged downwards into a frown, the wrinkles around her mouth deepening, as she bowed, nodding.

“Any _other_ complaints?” Taehyung’s voice drawled out, exhaling, sitting up.

One of them dared to speak up, known for his bravery at times, and his...quite _sarcastic_ demeanor.

“I do,” The voice spoke, loud and clear, as heads turned to the voice.

Taehyung scowled, yet he wanted to laugh at the bravery of the God.

Dionysus.

“Yes, _Jimin_?” Taehyung rolled his shoulders back, as Jimin’s shrewd eyes bored into Taehyung’s.

Their gazes locked, revolving in an endless loop of obstinacy, refusing to break the stare. Breaths were held, as eyes widened, scared to see how this would end up.

But Jimin only laughed mirthfully, eyes crinkling up in the corner, clapping his hands together, as he slowly gathered himself. “Ah, nothing, your Majesty, I was simply jestering you,” He bowed, grinning, the smile still on his face.

Taehyung cocked a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Alright, you all may,” He waved, brushing off the Gods as though they were peasants.

The large crowd had now dispensed, the Gods of Eden wordlessly remaining.

“Choi Yeonjun,” Namjoon’s hand patiently rested upon his armrest, sprinkles of water dancing on his palm, shapeshifting into all kinds of beauty. “What are you going to do when your… ‘heartbreak game’ gets out of hand?” He closed his hand, the droplets of water that once danced upon his palm disappearing into thin air. 

A flash of pink hair bounced around the warehouse, white wings soaring around the place.

“Will you quit flying around the place like a fucking _pigeon_ , Seokjin?” Yoongi looked up from his golden lyre, lightly playing the strings with the tips of his fingers. “You look like a _pink_ pigeon, and it isn’t helping much with the tuning,” He snapped, as Seokjin slowed down, the exuberant fire in his eyes dying.

“Alright,” He pouted, settling down on a wooden crate, feet dangling off the floor.

They were _quite_ a scattered mix of emotions. Usually, their loudest was Hoseok, but today, he seemed awfully quiet, shoulders hunched, wrinkles seeped deep around the creases of his face.

“Hoseok,” Jimin threw a grape at him, as the older looked up, distraught. “Wake up,” He plopped a purple grape into his mouth, leaning on his elbows.

Hoseok scrubbed at his eyes in frustration, teeth gritted. “Things are bad, Jimin,” He sighed. “War is raging, Choi’s heartbreaking game...it’s adding to the bloodshed!” He pounded a fist against one of the cold, steel walls, a dull thud echoing. Hoseok had seen blood, wars trapped in his mind, images of bloody people and ruined meadows splattered with dead bodies. 

But _never_ had he seen the outrage of people going mad this much. To this certain extent—this _limit_. 

“Well,” Taehyung muttered, chucking. “At least they’ll be dead after all of this-” He began, rolling his eyes (it was quite a common habit)-

“No, Tae, they’re our people!” Jimin protruded, grapes appearing on his palm from thin air, as he continued to stress eat.

It was second nature, instinctual. (When nervous, the wine God would stress eat grapes. It wasn’t something that could be helped-)

“I suppose you’re right, young one,” Sparks grew on Taehyung’s palm. “But this rests on our young Cupid’s shoulders, no?” He raised an eyebrow, looking over at their Cupid, who simply traced one of his arrows.

There was a streak of daylight peeking in through the window, splitting Yeonjun from the rest of the Gods. 

He stood on the other side of them. (He always had.)

Being the God of love was never easy. It only got more difficult with the days that passed, seeing more people fall in love, loneliness growing.

But that all changed one day when Yeonjun was the first person in sight of the mortal. He had a person who…. _loved_ him. Without even _knowing_ him.

Was that possible? Was this love truly able to be expressed to its full limits, despite lack of knowledge? 

Yeonjun didn’t bother searching for the answer, because for once, he felt… 

Free. 

After so many _centuries,_ it almost seemed too good to be true. There was a wave of drapetomania that had chained him down to his duty, but now…

He no longer faced the liability of being bound. This all seemed euphoric to him, something so... _unreal._

It was like killing for greed, and stealing all that wealth for your own good. 

But in the end, one only reaps what they sow.

* * *

The weather continued as nothing more than gloomy clouds of black empowering the sky; people carrying on with their lives.

A small, antique restaurant lay on the corner of the block that was constantly filled with the buzz of life; no matter _what_ the weather was like. At the top, it read: _BH’s And Whatnot_ , in bold, white letters, proudly speaking to a world that bothered to care. Nonetheless, the restaurant was quite a busy place, usually filled with customers, the place quite chatty and busy.

Taehyung was always the first to walk in, and go to their designated spot, which was a large booth, enough for all of them.

“Hello, how are you?” A waitress came out of her booth, holding menus in her hand, neatly laminated, placed in black folders, placing them in front of the Gods. 

Yeonjun looked up at her, smirking. “We’re doing _just_ fine,” He tauntingly spoke, eyeing her up and down. “How is such a fine lady as _yours_ doing today?” His words prolonged, as he bit his lower lip.

(Hoseok sighed, as did half of the table.)

“I’m swell, sir, you know, just, the usual,” She twirled a piece of her brown curly hair around her finger, blushing. “Well-uh, may I get you anything?” She laughed nervously.

They all gave their orders (maybe Taehyung whined a bit in the process), as she then turned to Yeonjun

“Alright, sir?” She nodded. “What would you like?” She asked Yeonjun, who looked her dead in the eye.

“You.” He answered, as the waitress’ eyes widened.

“T-that’s not on the menu, sir,” She fixed the bangs that came in her face, swallowing. 

“Really?” His tone was evident of the fact that he wasn’t shocked. “Well-”

“Choi, cut the bull and order,” Seokjin cut in, across the table, eyes slowly melting into an orange shade, as Namjoon looked over in concern.

Seokjin’s eyes only turned orange (not just any orange, but a fiery shade of orange), when his buttons were being pushed to a point where he could no longer handle it.

“Alright, alright,” Yeonjun sighed, ordering with a lousy tone.

As the waitress left, Yeonjun slumped down in his chair. “Seriously, do you _have_ to be such assholes?” He groaned, scrubbing at his eyes.

Seokjin’s eyes narrowed. “ _Assholes_?” He spat at Yeonjun, venom laced in his tone. 

Silence sat heavily for a while.

“ _You’re_ not the asshole?” Seokjin spat, hand balled up in a fist. 

Yeonjun’s tongue grazed over the top set of his teeth. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He rolled his shoulders back.

“That’s not intimidating,” Seokjin sneered, continuing to attack the other with his harsh words of the truth. “Just because you have the power to, doesn’t mean you can simply play with hearts and crush them as you please.” He scoffed, sitting back, speaking more in disgust rather than anger.

(The waitress came back with a tray filled with their drinks, handing them out, as the intense stare between Yeonjun and Seokjin did not break.

Hoseok thanked the waitress, who simply nodded, stealing one last glance at Yeonjun before leaving.)

The table’s tense atmosphere broke when Jimin accidentally snorted out his soda, coughing for a few seconds, causing a few people to look at them in worry.

The boys all stared at each other for a while, the restaurant completely silent, except for Jimin giggling. (What the fuck had just happened?)

They all burst out laughing at the wine God.

Their drinks slightly trembled, but dared not to spill over, for there were rare moments like this, where the Gods could forget the burdens of their duties and laugh; in the midst of mortals, in the midst of the _causes_ to their problems.

They could all laugh, and find joy from the slightest thing, as the Gods of Eden.

* * *

As they were served their food, they discussed problems such as famine, hunger, poverty, and abduction. Any other person overhearing the discussion would’ve mistaken these royalties for nothing more than presidents and kings of realms.

The idea of these young, youthful appearing boys being Gods who have lived for centuries…being true? (It was almost like one’s automatic instinct of denial, immediately rejecting the idea of the fact presented being incorrect, inaccurate, like a data table with statistics off the chart, results that didn’t— _couldn’t_ make sense.)

As time passed, the Gods remained, watching people come and go.

Political problems took up _so_ much time, they were _such_ a hassle.

“I understand, but look at Demeter, she’s not available-” Hoseok outstretched his hand, as Seokjin pushed it back, scoffing-

“Yes she is, she’s the daughter of Rhea, for the Gods’ sake! If _anyone_ is able to fix the grain fields, it’ll be her. I’ve worked with her before-”

(Taehyung shook his head, watching them bicker-)

“See, but the mortals from the West-” Jimin started-

“Does anyone _care_ about the mortals from the _west_?” Yeonjun scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Seokjin exchanged glances with Namjoon, whose eyes had widened.

It was quiet for a while, the impact of their youngest’s words strong, as they always were in matters of the mortals. The mortals were physically _powerless_ against the Gods, who could destroy their mere bodies with nothing more than a snap of their fingers, but mentally…

They _destroyed_ the Gods. 

They tore the Gods apart, creating a barrier that had seemed to grow more permanent in between them, more evident, as they glared at each other due to their different takes on important matters that they couldn’t see eye to eye on. 

But nonetheless, at the end of the day, Taehyung had the final say. 

Thus, most opinions didn’t matter. If Taehyung found one’s argument reasonable, he went along with it. Which is what was happening at the moment, all as Taehyung watched them, leaning back, an eyebrow cocked, occasionally biting the straw on his drink.

Listening to see who's had a more…. _permanent_ solution.

Namjoon watched Taehyung’s gaze, observing who it landed upon, who it left, who he rolled his eyes at, and which person’s words made his eyes narrow, or ponder upon. He knew the God at the back of his hand, he had _memorized_ the other, understanding the meaning behind every knuckle he cracked, every rise and fall of his chest, the lilt in his voice, and Taehyung would ask him-

“What do _you_ think, Namjoon?” Taehyung’s cool voice entered his ears, as Namjoon slowly blinked, lifting his gaze to meet the lightning God’s, staring deep into his electro-blue eyes.

Namjoon sighed deeply, as though he were lost in thought of their _political_ talk, but in reality, he just wanted the untouched burger in front of Hoseok.

“I’ll buy you another burger, just tell me your take on this situation, dear Cronos!” Taehyung whined, waiting for the other.

Namjoon nodded. “I believe that _all mortals_ are essential, since they _all_ help each other out.” He spoke in a calm tone, as he always did, eyes boring into whoever’s he was looking into.

In this case, his eyes sunk into Yeonjun’s eyes, which were swirling with traces of strawberry cotton candy in his pupil, body tense. 

“Along with that,” He continued, breaking off the stare, looking over at Taehyung, “ _Persephone_ has the skill to help the ones in the west who have trouble with the fields. If she needs assistance,” He shifted his gaze over to Jimin, raising a hand in his direction, “Jimin can go and assist her.” 

His words left an impact; they _were_ the most reasonable, the most sensible ones spoken wisely, with a tone that would _demand_ Taehyung’s attention.

Namjoon had a way with words that could simply stun whoever was listening, his voice a melody rich enough to lure you under its trance. For _hundreds_ of centuries, Namjoon had lurked around the deep dark shadows of the night, learning from its beauty as the days progressed.

Until he felt that he was finally able to step out into the light and bewilder the world, astonishing the Gods, as they stood there, words snatched at that moment.

Everything took its time. That was something Namjoon had learned. 

He looked at Taehyung, knowing that Taehyung would agree, and say-

“Namjoon’s right,” Taehyung spoke, lifting his gaze, pushing his hair back with a hand. “Demeter has harvesting to do in Olympus, and she promised Hades a more... _permanent_ visit,” He scanned the restaurant. “So Namjoon’s solution is the best. Call up her daughter. I know that....” He paused, eyes settling on Jimin, who looked up in curiosity, “You and Persephone are good friends, am I right?” He played with the small golden hoop on his right ear, watching Jimin, who nodded. 

“Yeah, I can go with her if you’d like,” Jimin rested his face on his hands, scrunching his lips together.

This meeting ended once more, as did all the others: Namjoon masked in the shadows of Taehyung, playing with him like a puppet, fingers lurking on the strings, all which could be tested in different manners.

* * *

Yeonjun broke apart the heated kiss, pulling away from the woman, as they both took a few seconds, panting, her hands resting on his chest, her knee in the space between both of his legs. Yeonjun looked around the dark alleyway once more—someone was _here,_ he could _sense_ it. 

It was as though they were invisible, yet standing right in front of him, waving their hand in his face in an attempt to get his attention.

“Sorry,” Yeonjun whispered, as they resumed, letting her hands thread through his hair as she let out a lewd moan, her fingers roaming through the slightest small spots-

He pulled away again, his heart almost caught in his throat.

“Why do you keep-” The waitress’ eyebrows furrowed as she was shushed by the other (his hand _itching_ to grab his bow and arrow)-

There it was. A slight rustle.

The sound of footsteps departing quickly was heard, as a stark figure was slightly revealed by the light of the moon.

“Stop!” Yeonjun ran after the figure, who only sped up, hurrying out of the alleyway, onto the streets. The bright city lights made it easier for Yeonjun to find his way as he left the stuttering woman there, sprinting after the culprit (This mortal did _not_ have a pretty future.)

Despite his footsteps seeming heavier than ever, he managed to almost catch up to the mortal, who ran for his life,

Yeonjun ran in pure fury, _determined_ to get a punch on the _repulsive_ person’s face, to at least-

_Honk! Honk!_

The loud blare of an incoming car made Yeonjun jump back into the street, as the mysterious person-

Boy. 

The young, teenage boy, with nice height, and a slim, proportioned body ran off, ignoring the car, desperate to not be caught. He let his feet carry him off into the dark streets, his figure getting smaller, as he looked back once quickly, orbs wide and fearful, aghast, warm drops of delirium dancing in pools of coffee colored eyes.

Yeonjun stood there, in awe, stunned by the beauty in his eyes, and the small, almost spotless scar at the side of his temple, spread around it like a splatter of white paint.

That was the last thing Yeonjun saw, before another car zoomed past his sight.

The boy was gone.

* * * 

It rained a month later, when the mortals decided to erupt into war, going full out, blood raging in the air. People rose, as did weapons, as swords unsheathed, daggers removed from their scabbards, torches burning with fire, soldiers stepping forward-

Cries of battle erupted, as the sounds of hooves clacked with the dirt beneath them that erupted, ashes of rage flying in the air. This was a war of madness—one that was not willing to end in a friendly manner.

For this— _this_ was a storm of violence being brought to life, with no intentions of dying.

The Gods gathered in the warehouse once again.

War was caught in the downpour, as innocent people ran for their lives, afraid of being welled up in something they had no intentions of being a part of. 

In some areas, rain was washing away pools of blood into the sewers, limbs scattered across the streets. In other areas, it was peaceful, the only disturbing being the news of the war, yet to have come, but still far away, too distant to reach them.

Yeonjun went to go see the waitress he had seen a while ago, the urge to play with someone’s heart creeping up his sleeve, as though it were something addicting, like smoking. (The nicotine, in this case, was seeing heartbreak.) He needed more.

Back in the warehouse, a solemn feeling spread through the gathered Gods.

Frustration was pent up in these walls, itching underneath their skin, making them want to rip their hair out, punch everything they could, and destroy everything that came to sight-

But the Gods stood there, calm and collected, tired, strained eyes looking in the direction of the torn window, covered by a cardboard box that could barely hold itself, trying to think of a way to end all of this, a solution. Namjoon sat silently, drops of water trickling along his fingertips, jumping back onto his palm rhythmically, leaping in the air. 

Taehyung looked up, eyebags revealing his lack of sleep. “Does anyone have anything in mind?” He asked, his voice opposing his appearance. 

Despite the frustration deep in his wrinkles, his messy hair, gruel appearance, his voice was firm and strong, a sense of pride since lingering in his tone, that somehow made him stand taller, his hair less messy, and his grimy appearance more impacting. 

“Hoseok,” Taehyung spoke, as heads turned to look at the war God, whose head was down, eyes hooded by his red hair, cracked lips tugged downwards into a frown. “Do you have-”

“I don’t _know,_ Taehyung,” Hoseok’s voice broke, as the sound of raindrops tapping against the cardboard board taped poorly to the window, filling in the silence. Hoseok didn’t dare to look up. “Where do you expect an answer from?” The war God continued, shaking his head, biting down on his lower lips, burning with shame.

The mortals weren’t supposed to be this way. They weren’t supposed to act like rabid animals, like-

A wave of madness.

They washed up lightly upon the shore, each rapid more vicious than the last, more overtaking, more dominant, more fierce, diabolical, _determined_ to wash away every grain of sand that _dared_ to lie sane. It was pandemonium.

Taehyung scoffed. _Mortals._

What _selfish_ , _cruel_ creatures. They only cared and nurtured others, as long as their actions would serve them, and meet their high demands. They pushed others away, those who were determined as insignificant, who weren’t good enough—who could _never_ be good enough, their endless efforts all to no avail.

Those were the outcasts. 

(There weren’t many outcasts, those people were often one in a million.)

Born to stand out, to make everyone stare and whisper in disgust, to push and shove around. Born to fear society.

Alas, our Cupid loved an outcast.

* * * 

At times, when one’s life is believed to be nothing more than utter shit, one likes to cry. And sob big fat, tears, falling down heavily, cries ripping out from the back of their throat, hearts aching _._

In an old, creaky basement, sat a young boy, face buried in his knees, shivering, letting himself cry. All alone, feeling the burden of life crawl upon him and suffocate him, as he struggled to breathe.

This young boy, who had no one to hold, to talk to, all alone, on a gloomy day, wanting everything to end.

Growing up was scary. If only someone had told Choi Soobin that growing up would be so _fucking_ scary. Soobin laughed bitterly at his cruel fate, letting his tears stain his jeans, as the air in the room seemingly got tighter, the walls closing in on him.

“Soobin!” A distant voice echoed through the walls of the building, causing the younger to look up, eyes swollen and puffy.

He just wanted to cry everything out, and scream for hours, and just run _._

Alas, this was his life— _no_. This wasn’t just his life.

This was being an adult.

Growing the fuck up, realizing that no one truly gave a shit, despite your past experiences, your traumas, harships. It meant growing the _fuck_ up, and not being so _fucking_ sensitive about every _fucking_ thing.

Sadly, it wasn’t something that could be helped exactly-

“Soobin!” He heard the same voice yell, as he stumbled to his feet, his heart pinning him to the spot he was sitting in, keeping him still.

“Coming!” He attempted to speak loudly, ignoring his needs at the moment. 

He needed to survive. 

To survive, he needed money. To have money, he needed a job, no matter the risks, no matter the working hours, the fatigue that it came with—none of it mattered. In the end, this job was his only option. So he worked. He stumbled, ached, hurt, everywhere, every day, all the time, but he pushed it all away.

And worked. And worked. And fucking _worked_ -

“There’s a lot of customers, Soobin. We have a table of eight, go freshen up,” The woman spoke, once he entered the restaurant above the cold basement. Looking at him up and down, she scoffed. “Well you look like shit,” She spoke, walking off.

Soobin sighed, heading to the bathroom, as he scrubbed at his face with cold water, washing his hands thoroughly, feeling his body grow warmer in the restaurant.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror, immediately looking away in disgust. He really did look like shit.

His hair was greasy and messy, eyes swollen and puffy, the tip of his nose red, his lips chapped. He was tired. He needed rest—he wanted to sleep for the rest of his life, and never wake up-

“Hurry!” Someone banged on the door, as Soobin’s head jerked up, turning off the faucet, drying his hands across a towel.

He put on a green sweater, tying an apron around his waist, putting on a black beret hat. Loneliness was eating him away on the inside, curling up against his gut, making him want to throw up-

“Coming!” Soobin spoke in response to the door being pounded loudly again. 

As he exited, he was immediately given a notepad, shoved towards a table, pairs of eyes staring at him.

“Take their order,” The woman hissed into his ear, leaving.

Timidly, Soobin walked over to the table. Heads lifted up, looking at him. “Hello, my name is Soo-” He stopped, breath stuck in his throat, as a familiar pair of eyes stared into his, eyes flashing, with-

“-bin.”

It was him.

A flashing sensation seared through his heart, as he flinched, wincing, feeling the pain pinch the tips of his ears, making his insides curdle, his sight fuzzy, his hearing muffled for a second, making him lose sense of the world-

Soobin cleared his throat, straightening his back, blinking. “I...apologize. Have you all decided on something to eat yet?”

One of them looked up at him, eyes kind and soft. “No worries,” He turned back to the group of people—six people, to be exact. “Are you guys ready to order?” 

A few hums and nods were heard in response, as the guy turned back to Soobin. Hastily, Soobin wrote down their orders, looking up every now and then, nodding. As he confirmed their orders, he gave it in, going back to his post, waiting to be called, glancing at the table, trying to confirm-

Yes. 

The boy _was_ him.

The boy he had seen kissing a random woman in the alleyway.

Soobin didn’t mean to walk in on them being…intimate. He was taking out the trash, and _happened_ to stumble across the sight. The sight of a super handsome, attractive guy, with a nice build, and buff arms, and the _cutest_ height and skin, and _oh_ , such _nice_ eyes-

He tried to be as quiet as possible, but the guy got mad, and chased Soobin down a good few blocks. When Soobin was sure that the guy was no longer there, he had to run back to the restaurant, and explain as to why taking out the trash, a two minute job, turned into a twenty minute errand. 

It was one of his worst nights-

“Soobin, go, give them their drinks!” He snapped out of thoughts, taking the outstretched tray, walking over to their table, placing their drinks carefully, trying to hide the fact that-

“Is everything okay?” The pink haired boy spoke up, pointing to Soobin’s hand. “It’s shaking really bad,” He put his hand down, the table’s eyes on his hand.

Soobin put the remaining drink on the tray, laughing nervously, rolling his wrist around. “It-it’s nothing, just…”He trailed off, looking into the boy’s eyes—the one who he had seen before, quickly looking away. “It’s just an old injury.” He bowed, walking off, rubbing his wrist, that wouldn’t stop _fucking_ shaking.

(When the first war occured, and Soobin was no more than a small boy, his father shielded his son's body with his own, the world around them crumbling, being destroyed. And as Soobin felt a building fall, he felt sharp stone peirce one temple, another large weight crushing his wrist. Even after he healed, scars lasted, and his hand shook.)

Back at the table, the Gods looked after the waiter.

Yeonjun sucked in air between his clenched teeth, cocking his head. “I’ve seen him somewhere,” He shook his head, attempting to come up with an answer, as if it would simply appear out of thin air, presented to him. “He’s really pretty—and cute,” He spoke, as the table turned to look at him.

The boy—Soobin, kept glancing over at them, which didn’t go unnoticed. He wasn’t being too subtle about it.

“Why do you think he keeps looking over?” Seokjin asked, taking a sip out of his beverage, looking at the others, who simply shrugged their shoulders.

“He looks so cute and small, I just want to fit him in my pocket!” Jimin squealed, earning a look of disgust from Taehyung.

"You're shorter than he is, if he wanted to, he could fit _you_ in his pocket," Taehyung quipped.

Jimin only shrugged in response.

Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed. “You guys,” He sat up, a bit concerned, feeling the need to cut to the chase. 

Hoseok looked over, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

Yeonjun sighed, contemplating. “I uh…” He winced, realizing the weight of his actions. “I shot Soobin.” He laughed nervously, cringing. “But…” He stopped, looking at their faces.

Taehyung shook his head. “You never learn, do you?” He scoffed. “We told you to stop playing with mortals-”

“But,” Yeonjun chipped in, leaning closer. “Nothing happened.”

Those two words seemed to push everyone back in their seats, the impact clear in the silence that followed Yeonjun’s response. Seokjin blinked again, eyebrows furrowed, looking over at Namjoon, who wore the same perplexed face.

How was Yeonjun— _the_ Cupid’s arrow, not responsive? 

Especially after Yeonjun was the _first_ person that Soobin laid his eyes upon, after being shot, straight in the heart?

(The rules were that when the Cupid shot someone, the first person they looked at would be who they fell in love with.)

Yeonjun ignored the others’ appalled faces (they all looked fucking _hilarious,_ mouths agape and all). “I’m gonna flirt with him, see where this goes,” Yeonjun took a sip out of his beverage.

Jimin tilted his head at their youngest. “Do you _really_ think that it would be a good idea?” He rubbed his eyes, as Hoseok laughed.

“You know Yeonjun, finding an excuse to flirt and make out with someone,” He laughed, as his face suddenly grew stern. “He’s coming.” They all looked up to see Soobin carrying trays balanced perfectly on his arms, as he placed the food in front of them. 

“Here you are,” He spoke, cautious. “Enjoy your meals,” He bowed once more, leaving-

“Wait,” Yeonjun commanded him, making the boy stop in his tracks, his body stiff.

“Yes?” He turned around, eyes doe, confused. Desperate. Just like the last time.

“You’re cute,” Yeonjun blatantly spoke.

Soobin simply stood there for a few seconds, unable to contain his surprise, as he blinked his eyes a few times, turning properly to the God. “Wh-what?” Soobin cleared his throat, forcing a smile onto his face, clearly uncomfortable with the remark just made.

Yeonjun nodded. “When does your shift end? Maybe we can-”

Soobin walked away, not even letting Yeonjun complete his sentence, simply keeping his mouth shut, leaving the Gods agape, staring after the boy.

He truly was a case, one _dying_ to be cracked.

"-what the absolute _fuck,_ Choi Yeonjun?” Seokjin hissed at their Cupid, a week after the incident with Soobin, pulling their cloaks further over his shoulders. It wasn’t cold that day, yet Yeonjun couldn’t stop shivering, as they made their way towards the place they always headed: the warehouse.

“Hurry,” Taehyung glanced back lazily, taking long strides, quickening his pace, as the others quickly jogged to catch up with the lightning God.

The Gods were used to people staring. Quiet whispers, murmurs, usually unnecessary comments, things that could have been thought about in silence, were spoken aloud.

At times like this, when mortals disturbed the Gods with their flimsy-sounding comments, the impact always hit harder than intended. Times like this, where Namjoon would watch the Gods lose their minds, as he stayed shadowed, trying to keep them all sane. Time like this, where tension would become the cloak wrapped around them, outlining their figures, making their jobs seem so much more difficult.

The sun beamed down upon the people there, who continued to proceed, carrying on with their lives, as the Gods neared their destination.

To the mortals, this looked like a burnt down building—one with remains that no one even dared to approach. 

Almost like a sacred place, with too much meaning and fear embroidered within its architecture, too much meaning, too much symbolism carrying the weight of the truth—one that every being seemed to fear. But the Gods—this was their sanctuary. This was their haven, one where no one could touch them, sheltered from the world and its cruel mortals..

The “door” was simply a curtain that had to be lifted (no one really minded, it had been this way for a few decades now), allowing the Gods to their own world, where they could breathe in ease.

“We have come here on no special occasion, but rather, a discovery!” Taehyung spoke loudly the minute he entered, his voice booming. The rest of them followed Taheyung into the warehouse, as he began to make his way to the front, Namjoon standing beside him.

“If this is about the crops-” Seulgi started, only to be cut off by the King.

“Hush, Demeter, this is nothing of the sort.” He put his hand up, as she stopped. “Your daughter has done well,” He slowly lowered his hand, staring into her emerald orbs, that seemed to have widened. “In fact,” He turned to the crowd of Gods, emancipating the news, “I have something quite flabbergasting,” He stayed standing, his pointer finger rubbing circles onto the distal phalanx of his thumb, eyes flickering.

Silence loomed in the air like death, until the news tumbled through Taehyung's lips.

“Choi Yeonjun’s arrow has failed on a mortal!”.

Gasps erupted through the crowd, Gods turning to each other, some of them clutching at their brains, their hearts, unable to process this, chatter erupting-

“Silence!” Taheyung commanded, reticence looming through the chatty crowd. The weight of Taehyung’s crown seemed to have gotten more heavy, more dull, as his headache horribly increased by the passing second. “I need to know why this is happening!” He let his words sink through the crowd, as more whispers erupted.

 _How could this have possibly happened?_ _  
_

_It doesn’t make sense, right?_ _  
_

_Is Zeus lying again to keep Hera away?_ _  
_

“I believe I have an answer to your question, Your Majesty,” A calm, cool voice rippled above the jabberring of the Gods, as everyone turned to her. As expected, it was Athena, Goddess of Wisdom. She was a beautiful, superlative woman, with calm, cold features, but a warm smile. “I believe that Hermes has not brought this to your knowledge, but the other day, we happened to be discussing the mortals and the prophecies,” Her grey eyes intensified as she spoke, her words an admonition. “But the Oracle had mentioned to me around a decade ago that Cupid’s situation would get out of hand, thus, the after effect would be taken out on a... _mortal_ .” She spoke the last word quietly, her voice dark, eyes downcast. “And that... _mortal_ would be an outcast.” She let the words sink into the Gods, who turned to look at each other in confusion. “Meaning, society has turned them against themselves. They’re in a state or shape in which they are physically or mentally able to love someone,” Her final words left a blow in the Love God’s heart, making him feel disheartened.

“There is a cure though,” Seokjin piped up, nervously laughing. “As me and Irene—Athena were discussing, we found out that Cupid has to go to the mortal, and give them his arrow, giving him full permission to do whatever the mortal wishes to do,” He sighed, nodding at all the confused faces. “Because that gives the _mortal_ control of love in the moment, rather than Cupid.” He concluded, as they all heard Yeonjun sigh.

“They’re a sad person, Yeonjun,” Athena lifted her wise eyes to meet Yeonjun’s youthful eyes, filled with freedom and power. “The other mortals have made them cave in upon themselves-” 

They were all silenced, as a deep, silky voice interrupted the Gods, making their eyes widen in shock.

“So I’m the _mortal_ that you all have decided to discuss upon?” Soobin emerged out of the dark, making the Gods look at each other in fear. 

The mortal had entered their territory? And was able to see them all at this moment? In their god forms? How—it didn't make any sense.

“I’m an outcast, yeah,” He stepped forward, taking the apron off that he had on after a long day of work. 

Silence shrouded the room like a dark coat that could not be removed. 

“I don’t know how to love, yeah,” He took another step forward, causing the nearest God to take a step back. 

“I don’t understand how to properly live, or... _do_ anything, yeah,” He looked up, his dark brown eyes softening, letting his guard fall, as he neared a ray of light that stood in front of him.

“Wait, stop!” Jimin held out a hand, eyes wide, fear crawling up his throat. “Don’t-don’t take another step! Otherwise you’ll-”

Soobin took a step forward, allowing the ray of light to consume him, as his hair radiated in the sun, eyes glistening, a small smile on his face. He looked absolutely stunning, his beauty seemingly evident in the rays of the sun.

“Die….” Jimin finished his sentence, the fear in his eyes now replaced by shock. “How…?” He asked in disbelief.

Soobin chuckled—they still didn't understand. They couldn't put the peices together—that he had presented _for_ them to see, to put together. “I’m a demigod.” He stated, standing a bit taller than before.

Jaws dropped, eyes widened, as the Gods looked at him in disbelief.

“No,” Athena whispered, slowly shaking her head, in denial. “The demigods all died out decades ago,” She spoke slowly, trying to process the mortal— _demigod’s_ words.

Jin turned to Athena in shock. "The oracle was _right,_ then," He concluded. "Demigods still walk amongst us."

Soobin nodded his head. “After the last war, there were some who still survived. _Very_ few,” His tone dropped, voice hardening. “Cupid….” He turned to Yeonjun, locking eyes with him. “I felt your arrow pierce me,” He put his hand over the place where the arrow shot him, as though he still felt the sensation clenching his heart. “But..it didn’t work.” He stopped, unsure of what to say.

Yeonjun stepped forward, emerging from the crowd. “Yes, that has come to my understanding,” He joined Soobin under the sun, his gaze connecting with Soobin’s, intently searching for something.

An unknown emotion was triggered.

Feeling clicked.

Hearts locked.

Fingers hovered, scared to touch.

It was quiet. A drop of water fell from the ground, another one following it.

_Drip. Drop._

Yeonjun felt something stab at his heart, as he looked down, seeing Soobin’s fist gripping the shaft of the arrow, his hand shaking.

“I want to love...Cupid,” Soobin whispered, eyes filled with uncertainty, something that made the hairs on Yeonjun’s neck rise. Yeonjun could hear years of broken bones and bloodied bodies engraved in the demigod’s voice, as his hands desperately shuddered.

It was indescribable—the wave of emotions that overcame the God at that time, as the world seemed to dance in a shade of light pink. He met the demigod’s eyes, as they stayed standing, in their own circle, their own little world. The Gods left the two to themselves, demigod to God.

Immediately, all of Soobin’s features stood out a bit more—from his cold, sharp eyes to his cute nose, to his soft cheekbones, faintly caressing his dark purple hair, to his small, exquisite, rosy lips.

“I’m sorry,” Yeonjun whispered, as the demigod shook his head, smiling in response.

“Don’t be,” He chuckled. “The world has done much worse.” He said, inspecting the God's features— _oh,_ how the sun danced upon his tan skin, it seemed like a _blessing_.

“I…” Yeonjun seemed to stumble upon words, but words could truly not describe what went over him in the moment that seemed to be passing by.

Fast.

Everything was happening too fast. The world seemed to zoom by in the blink of an eye.

He couldn’t seem to keep up with everything that occured, trapped in the depths of a heavy whirlwind, tugging on every inch of his body-

“Shh, Yeonjun, I know,” Soobin spoke quietly, rubbing his shoulder, unsure of what to do or say.

He had never been comforted all his life, by anyone, nor had he ever seen anyone in this sort of state. 

Is this the power that his arrow held? To make one’s life feel as though it were falling apart, all in an instant? Was that the power that _love_ held?

No. Not really.

Love...was a tricky feeling. Love wanted to make one stand tall and arrogant, but at the same time, it had the power to make one cower at someone’s feet, body trembling. Love was able to make the most brave person a coward, and the biggest coward, the most fearless person one would have ever seen. Love made one change, but it made one still keep bits and pieces of themselves, pieces that made the other smile in awe.

Love made every small detail more apparent, every fleck of emotion jumping in one’s eye, to every small crack in their lips, to every baby freckle that resembled an autumn leaf, to their small mole on their neck, to their small vein that protruded when they spoke, to their nose that scrunched as they laughed, until…

They were whole. And every small beauty made them a person who was truly loved. Every small feature reflected some part in their heart, for that is what was even more beautiful.

In order to truly love someone, you must understand how their soul reflects upon their heart, and how their heart reflects upon their mind.

That is love.

Rather, that is _understanding_ love.

* * * 

As the demigod sat in the restaurant with the God, he was able to get an hour off for a break. Yeonjun sighed deeply; looking at all the food here made him want to throw up. He couldn’t even find himself to look at the demigod, as if looking at him would make the God burn away.

“Yeonjun, right?” Soobin brought two drinks to the table, as Yeonjun nodded, still avoiding the others’ gaze.  
It wouldn’t be wrong to say that he was embarrassed. He was...

No.

“I’m sure you remember...I’m Soobin,” he said, as Yeonjun nodded once more. “I understand that this is confusing,” He paused, peering closely at the God, “This is new to me too. I was summoned by the Oracle in my dreams-”

“No, you _don’t_ understand,” Yeonjun felt a sense of helplessness take over him. “I’m the God of love... _falling_ in love,” He stopped, biting his lips. “What does that make me now?” He blinked away tears that had reappeared after decades. Crying was so _foreign_ to him.

Soobin nodded. “I _do_ understand where you’re coming from,” He spoke quietly. “But the Oracle told me, that once your arrow stopped working on one person, that chain would continue to happen,” He sighed, not sure if the other understood. “Meaning that this would have started happening more. Until eventually, your powers would stop working...forever,” His voice dropped even more, as the God finally looked into his eyes.

 _Fuck,_ the demigod was so fucking beautiful. The word beautiful did not do Soobin justice, for he possessed a face that was hypnotizing, a sort of beauty that kept one at a loss of words.

“I’ve seen you all before. I’ve seen the warehouse,” Soobin spoke, as he took a small sip from his drink, carefully choosing his words. “I’ve never had parents, though,” He spoke quietly, as though he were ashamed of the fact. “So...growing up, I was always confused as to whatever inflicted upon me,” He played with the straw that rested in between his fingertips, glancing up at the other. “I...uh, I’m the son of Athena,” He let his words hang around in the air, as Yeonjun’s eyes widened, his head jerking up to meet Soobin.

“What?” He asked in disbelief, only to see his heart…

Aching. There was this aura around Soobin, luring Yeonjun in, unexpectedly, making him want to know everything about the other.

Was it an obsession? Maybe not.

But Yeonjun couldn’t seem to understand where this was coming from—these emotions, these unknown feelings. He wanted to sit and talk for hours with the other, and do nothing else-

“Yeonjun?” The demigod’s alluring voice brought the other out of his trance, as he looked up, blinking.

“Yeah?” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I just…” He trailed off unsure of what to say. 

It was like watching someone do something easily, and then trying to pull it off yourself, a scenario with too much frustration.

Soobin nodded in understanding. “Yes, I can see that this is difficult,” He played with the silver ring around his thumb. “But this will only take time, you know,” He bit on his lip, reaching, placing a hand on top of Yeonjun’s, who simply let it occur.

Yeonjun nodded. “Yeah, I guess one day or another, I would’ve had to face these consequences,” He sighed, unable to get rid of the ache in his heart. It seemed to weigh down on him harder with the passing second.

Is this what the mortals felt like? When their hearts would be broken, after being betrayed? Left all alone, simply used? With no hope left in their hearts? Did they also feel like the world was helplessly crumbling at their feet, unable to do a _damned_ thing about it?

“Well, I mean, this was going to happen, so, why not make the best out of it?” Soobin smiled at the God, playing with his rough, calloused hands. 

Yeonjun could only laugh at the absurdity of this situation that he was trapped in, with the demigod, who deserved _so_ much better. “Why are you doing this?” He asked the other, who stared back at him in question. Yeonjun sighed. “This. Why are you being _nice_?” He brought his gaze down to their intertwined hands. 

Soobin shrugged. “I’m not sure why,” He spoke, honest with his answer. “Maybe it’s because I feel bad, or because I’m not sure of what to do,” He stopped, thinking. “It’s what….Dad would’ve wanted,” He cleared his throat, as Yeonjun looked up, seeing Soobin’s misty eyes. 

“Don’t cry,” Yeonjun put his hands over the other’s reassuringly, as the demigod looked at him in shock, new to this action.

Was this an act of...kindness?

Soobin smiled, shaking his head. “Dad would’ve loved to see me grow up,” He blinked, silent for a while. “He died in the first war,” He swallowed the lump in his throat. 

Yeonjun blinked. “Oh,” He spoke, unsure of what to say, as they let silence take over them for the longest time, letting it comfort them.

Yeonjun’s hands were warm, against the demigod’s cold, soft hands. 

The first war was something that was so cruel, so dangerous, that it was banished from people’s mouths, never spoken of, shunned from the minds of society. 

People kept it that way, continuing on with their lives, ignoring the severe burn trauma caused, not bothering to look at it become an ugly scar.

“Your dad would’ve been proud,” Yeonjun finally spoke, causing Soobin to look up at the God, eyes wide. 

Silence resumed to fill the air around them, until a lady walked up to their table, hands on her hips. “Soobin, it’s time to go back to work,” She interrupted the calm, serene atmosphere around them. Their hands abruptly moved away from each other, sitting back in their seats, as Soobin cleared his throat.

“Until….next time, Yeonjun,” Soobin gave him a small smile, getting up from the booth, as Yeonjun nodded, waving. “Until next time.” 

He left the restaurant, the smile on the demigod’s face growing.

* * *

The next time that the God and the demigod met was a month later, the sun kissing the ocean as the summer breeze swayed along to the birds chirping.

When they met, neither was in a rush, nor were they in a moment of abruptness. It was a sweet, slow day, the sun taking its time, casting its warm rays upon the earth, watching from above, allowing the moon to rest. 

Both were walking alongside a calm river bathed in warmth, crossing a short bridge, watching the lily ponds. 

“Yeonjun?” Soobin smiled, walking over to the God, who turned his head slowly to look at the other…

And Yeonjun felt his heart fucking stop in his chest. Yeonjun looked... _breathtaking_? 

No. That word did not do justice to the way his tan skin gleamed underneath the sun, looking like smooth soft butter. 

It did not do justice to the way his light brown hair fell into his dark turquoise eyes, holding centuries of the stars coming and going that Soobin could only dream of, to his prominent, plump lips that curved upwards so beautifully—oh _Gods,_ was this Cupid truly a masterpiece of his own.

“Hey, how are you?” Yeonjun chucked, walking over to the demigod, who was stuck in place, unsure of what to say, still caught in that smile.

“Uh, yeah, I’m good,” Soobin cleared his throat, smiling. “How...have you been? Getting anywhere with the mortals?” He scratched the nape of his neck awkwardly. 

“I know as much as you do,” Yeonjun sighed, leaning back on the banister. “The war has lessened in some areas, but worsening in others. I’m glad it hasn’t come here yet,” He opened his eyes to look at the other, whose eyes were fixated on the God, lips slightly parted.

Wow, he was _definitely_ a God.

“ _Soobin_ ,” Yeonjun sang playfully, as the demigod looked in response, ears turning red.

“Yeah?” He smiled shyly, as Yeonjun exhaled.

“How’s your job?” He closed his eyes, leaning back, bathing in the sunlight. 

Soobin stiffened up. When he was with Yeonjun, he forgot about the atrocities of his workplace, the cruelty, and all of the goddamn-

“Good,” Soobin’s voice wavered slightly as he shoved the fib out in the air. 

Yeonjun opened his eyes, a look of concentration on his face as he stared hard at Soobin, eyebrows furrowed. Soobin stood there, uncomfortable, as the God studied him. Just looking at him up and down, observing the taller.

“You’re really pretty,” Yeonjun finally spoke, making Soobin blink in surprise, staring at the God.

“Wha-” Soobin was cut off by the feeling of a warm finger lightly pressed to his lips. 

“Shh,” Yeonjun chuckled, his heart pounding, but he didn’t show it. “I love being with you in moments like this,” He leaned back, removing his finger, the sensation still buzzing on Soobin’s lips. Soobin simply stared, speechless by Yeonjun’s simple actions, beholding the power to make butterflies erupt in his stomach. 

Yeonjun had such a _powerful_ aura, it matched his quirky, mischievous, personality, the edges blurred by small pieces in his heart that held empathy and love. 

As they walked along the streets, they let light chatter them carry them along with the breeze. It gave Soobin time to note small things about Yeonjun—things that he wanted to remember, keep in his heart, safely stored. 

He loved the way Yeonjun unintentionally smirked, to the way his two front teeth would come out when biting something, to the way he’d playfully roll his eyes, to the way he’d push his hair back, and look so _fucking handsome-_

“So, I guess this is where we’re going to have to part,” Cupid told the demigod, nearing a split crossroad, smiling.

Soobin unintentionally pouted, holding onto the sleeve of Yeonjun’s shirt. “Do you _have_ to go?” He whined, as Yeonjun chuckled, leaning over to the younger, pressing his lips to the demigod’s forehead. 

“Yes, Angel, I do,” He slowly held Soobin’s hands, swinging them. “Take care of yourself, okay?” 

Soobin only nodded, heart dropping as the other left, his silhouette getting smaller with every step that he took. 

As a car whizzed past Soobin’s sight, making him flinch.

When he looked again, Yeonjun was gone.

* * *

It had been a decade since the war had begun, and at the end of this long era, small rays of the sun peeking out, signaling the moments of dawn. After a long day, dawn shall occur, no matter how long the day has proven to be.

As Yeonjun and Soobin sat side by side, in the middle of an empty meadow, watching dawn appear, they let themselves smile and be together. Hands intertwined, souls exposed, hearts beating, emotions raw, connecting with each other, communicating better than words could ever. 

Yeonjun looked over at Soobin, smiling at him. “Binnie,” He let the demigod’s nickname fall out of his lips, causing the other to look over and smile, humming in response. Yeonjun thought for a moment, over how to say the words that rested on his tongue. “I….” He stopped, exhaling, as the other boy chuckled.

“I know, Yeonjun,” His voice held a sort of soft, nostalgic hold in it, one that seemed quite indescribable. “Me too,” He leaned over, placing a soft peck on Yeonjun’s cheek, about to pull away-

Yeonjun turned his head, capturing the others’ lips with his own, feeling the taste of bittersweetness lingering in his mouth, as they moved their lips against each others’. Emotions bursted all around the air, sparkling under the bright rays of the sun, making the view more beautiful.

For in that moment, the sunset was not needed to be seen, but rather, it was their bond—their bond faithfully protected by trust, encased in a layer of protectiveness, emotions all bound by strong material—too strong to break. They turned to each other, not breaking apart, too scared to let go, to leave each others’ escape from the world a reminder of cruelty.

So they kissed, and kissed, and kissed. They kissed until they stopped hurting, until every raw, open, bleeding cut had been tended to, until every bruise had been kissed, and every scar had been honored. They kissed until the empty space in their hearts was now filled with emotions for each other. As they pulled away, a small string of saliva rested in between their lips, a reminder of the love they had just expressed. 

Soobin moved back, eyes slightly wide. Words could not fall through his lips to quench the curiosity of these actions.

Yeonjun laughed, brushing a bit of grass that was on his pants, turning to the other. 

“Yeonjun,” The demigod blinked, still under the trance of the kiss. “Wha-what are we?” He licked his lips, feeling the sweet taste of the God’s tongue in his mouth.

The taste of true freedom, not an illusion that was ruptured.

For _this_ was his freedom. This was his way out of the dungeons of hell, the depths of heartbreak, the way out of the harsh reality that sometimes-

“I don’t know,” Yeonjun sighed. “And I’m okay with not knowing.”

What did the small kisses that they had exchanged over the past few months meant? The mere glances, peering over at the other while standing in a group of people, yet existing for only the other? The small teasing actions, leaning closer, yet not daring to kiss the other fully?

Until now.

What did the small heartbeats increasing mean? With every look, every glance, every touch, every ghosting kiss?

“What do you _want_ us to be?” Soobin asked Yeonjun, who furrowed his eyebrows, slightly taken back by the question.

What was the one thing Yeonjun longed for the most? The one thing he wished to hold onto the most? 

The _one_ thing that could distract him from the loud, noisy world, no matter how much it begged for his attention?

“What do _you_ want?” Yeonjun sighed, rolling his head for a second. “Because I don’t want to _be,_ I just want to _feel_ ,” He spoke truthfully, making Soobin’s eyes widen.

What did Soobin want? What did he yearn for? When did his heart cry out the most?

Yeonjun and Soobin locked eyes. Loneliness ate them up on the inside, mercilessly wrenching their hearts-

“I want to stop hurting, Yeonjun—to stop _feeling_ hurt,” Soobin bluntly spoke, seeing Yeonjun’s expression falter. “I know it’s impossible to stop hurting completely,” He looked over at the sky, drowning in the last few rays, small black crowds gathering in the air. “But I don’t hurt as much when I’m with you,” He turned back to Yeonjun, who smiled bitterly.

“Yeah,” He agreed, sitting in silence. “I like us,” Yeonjun chuckled, and for the first time, in centuries, specks of happiness flickered in his eyes.

It was _enthralling_.

“Y-you do?” Soobin felt happiness swell in his heart, his smile growing.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, Soobin fucking _smiled_. Not the smile, where it’s small and short, disappearing after a second of what seems to be a moment of happiness, where it would seem most sensible to smile- But a smile with all his pearly white teeth, lips lifted up from both corners, slight laughter escaping his lips, his whole face lighting up (despite the dark sky), joy bursting in his heart.

“Me too,” He laughed, leaning forward, crashing his lips onto Yeonjun’s.

This wasn’t a kiss of desperation, of needing to get away from loneliness, of wanting to stop the pain.

It was a kiss of relief, of melting into small touches, fluttering with small pecks, hands lightly trailing along the miles of skin that glowed, holding each other together, letting emotions seep through small holes that dared to leak. Soobin didn’t even realize he was crying until he tasted his salty tears in the midst of their tongues dancing, as Yeonjun pulled away in concern.

“I’m happy,” Soobin sobbed, as Yeonjun pulled the younger into his arms. “I’m so fucking _happy,_ Junnie.” He buried his face in Yeonjun’s shoulder, dampening his white sweater.

They didn’t find a permanent solution to all of the worries in the world. But they stuck together. They remained by each others’ sides, holding the other when words could not. 

They learned to hold hands even while facing the other way, ending their fights on a better note than started. They learned to get up, to fall, to whine, to bitch about _mortals._ They let themselves break down, showing their sides and emotions to the other, who willingly accepted it.

They learned to live. They learned to love.

And until the days that came, the tales of the great Cupid falling in love with a demigod were told around the many campfires that lit up the dark night.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you so much!  
> Do let me know what you think down below and if I should maybe try writing another Greek Mythology book or another idea!  
> Come talk to me on Twitter-bagchuu!  
> Have a wonderful day and stay safe! <3


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